Sleeping peacefully on the living room carpet, his long brown legs drawn up in a nearly fetal crouch, Rich scarcely resembled the man whom she had alternately loathed and loved earlier that afternoon.
Valerie sat on the couch in one of Jeanne's bathrobes, staring at her sleeping brother-in-law with a mixture of wonder and fear. For a while she, too, had slept, but it had been too warm in the bed with both her father-in-law and her dozing roommate. Now she leaned back against the soft green cushions of the sofa, a half-empty tumbler of red wine on the coffee table beside her. She had expected to feel bruised and raw, so she moved gingerly as she crossed her legs, even though she had no aches and she felt strangely calm and relaxed.
I should be screaming, she thought. Or calling the police. Or something. But she couldn't make up her mind whether she had been outraged by the behavior of the others and herself, or secretly pleased. She knew she would never admit to herself or anyone that she had enjoyed what had happened to her. But, even so, she could not suppress a strange smile of satisfaction that formed on her lips.
When she became aware of the smile she reached for the glass of wine. Except that my lips are so dry, she told herself, I feel better than I have since I left Jim. Can it be true that a woman needs sex just as much as a man? That would account for my sense of… well, almost relief at being used so thoroughly. She had long advocated the position of Women's Liberation groups that women should be as free as men to decide, and demand, sex when they felt the desire. But it was only now that she began to believe in the position herself. It seemed odd to her that, despite the fact of her adamant stand on the issue, secretly she had always believed that, sexually anyway, women were really not psychologically equipped to be anything but receptacles for a man's camel cravings.
"That kind of thinking," she whispered to the wine glass, "is pure shit." And she added silently, And it's probably a big part of the reason you left Jim. How can you hope to live with a complicated human being if you can't even recognize something as simple as your own sex drive? She shook her head in self-mockery and took another sip of the wine. Well, she told herself, looking once again at her sleeping brother-in-law, at least you know that you must be a good lay. She shook her head, thinking, So many times!
I must've lost weight, she thought. So many times, so many different ways! It's a wonder my cunt doesn't look like raw hamburger. She glanced at Rich to make sure he was still asleep, then parted the bathrobe and looked down at her cunt. She had examined it once already when she washed, but now she spread her thighs a little and looked down at it again. It's not as pretty as a cock, she thought, But it's a pretty cunt. She touched the silky pubic hair with her delicate fingers, then gently parted the folds of her labia. She couldn't see it very well without a mirror, but she examined it as best she could from that position, looking for any traces of damage. Except perhaps that it looked slightly mote red than usual, she could detect no drastic change.
Then she looked over at her brother-in-law, who was still asleep on the rug, and she thought, That is a good fuck. That's about the best fuck I've ever had.
When she fumed her head and reached for the wine glass she saw that her brother-in-law was awake and watching her.
"Don't you know you'll get zits if you play with yourself like that?" he asked her.
She was embarrassed that he had seen her looking at her pussy, but she said, "If you can scratch your balls all the time, I can certainly look at my cunt when I want to."
Rich almost laughed. "That's pretty nasty talk for a Catholic girl," he said. "Where's my dad, and what's-her-name?"
"Her name is Jeanne, and they're both in the bedroom. Still sleeping, I guess."
"What time is it?"
"I don't know. About five, maybe. The sun's starting to go down."
"I'm hungry," he said. "Why don't you rustle us up some chow?"
"Why don't you go home to eat?" she asked him, picking up her wine and taking a long sip. "I don't think there's anything to eat here, and anyway, Frances will be waiting supper for you."
"Give me some of that, whatever it is," he told her. "I feel like I'd slept with a pair of dirty socks in my mouth."
She handed him the wine and watched him drain the glass, his Adam's apple bobbing on his bull-like neck.
"Thanks," she told him when he set the glass on the table, where it made a purple ring on the glass, even though she hadn't noticed him spill any.
Rich stretched his long legs, worked his shoulders in circles for a moment, then said, "There must be something to eat."
Valerie nodded in the direction of the kitchen.
"See for yourself then," she said carelessly. "The cupboard is bare. We don't eat much here."
Rich groaned a little as he got up, his heavy balks swinging between his thighs. He stretched again, then started for the kitchen, which was at the other end of the room.
"Take this with you," Valerie said, handing him the wine glass. "I'd like some more. And when you come back, bring the bottle with you. It's on the counter by the sink."
Rich looked down at her for a moment, apparently evaluating whether or not his sister-in-law was actually giving him an order.
"No woman gives me orders," he said.
"Don't be such a macho klutz," she said, pressing the wine glass into his hand. "I think there might be some yogurt in the refrigerator if you want that."
Rich hefted the glass in his hand, looking down at her. "Yogurt?" he said incredulously. "Isn't that made out of spoiled milk? You don't actually eat that stuff."
"I've eaten worse today," she said.
Rich gunned at her. Then he went into the kitchen. She didn't watch him, but she could hear him blanking the wine bottle and glass together on the counter. And as though she were looking out the paisley-painted window and at the red and purple stain it cast on the floor near where he had been sleeping, she could visualize him as he opened the refrigerator door and bent down to see what was inside, his buttocks bumping the cold handle of the oven behind him.
When he came back he sat down on the carpet beneath her and poured some wine in her glass. He took a swig out of the bottle, which looked ridiculous since it was an expensive brand which one of Jeanne's dates had given her, and the mouth of the bottle was not shaped for drinking. He had found a plastic basket of cherry tomatoes and an unopened can of Vienna sausages, and when he pulled the spiraling aluminum from the sausage can he cut his thumb a little.
"Watch out!" she said, too late.
Rich sucked on his thumb, and with the other hand pulled one of the jellied sausages from the densely packed can. She watched him tilt his head back to drop the sausage, whole, into his mouth. Then she reached into the green plastic basket and pulled out a tomato, her fingernails holding it by the tiny stem. She took a sip of the wine he had poured her, then bit off a third of the tomato, still watching him eat the sausages.
"I wish you had some potato chips," he said, washing down the sausage with a swig of wine from the bottle.
"Did you ever see Tom Jones?" she asked him, holding the cherry tomato against her lips. "The movie with Albert Finney, I mean."
"Isn't that the one where they go deer hunting on horses and that skinny blonde chases him all over to get him to marry her, only he's fucking everyone else and gets hung in the end?"
Valerie grinned at his synopsis of the movie. "I think it was a fox they were hunting," she said. She was fascinated with the way a tiny diamond of jellied grease clung to his lower lip as he talked.
"Why would anybody want to hunt a fox?" he asked. "They don't eat them, do they? They eat rats sometimes in Nam," he told her. "And cats, too, even though they're harder to catch than dogs. Rats are even harder to catch, but they eat them sometimes. I've seen it more than once."
"Didn't you think it was sexy?" she asked him, leaning down a lime, her hands on her knees, as she watched him eat another sausage.
"Rats? Eating rats?" he asked her, his sun-bleached eyebrows arched incredulously.
Valerie smiled. "No," she said. "I mean the movie. I remember I thought it was just about the sexiest thing I'd ever seen when he was eating the pear with his mother."
"Those were oysters," he told her. "I remember that part, too, because it made my girl friend hungry, and I had to put my pants on and go to the snack bar to get her some potato chips. I wish you had some potato chips now, come to think about it. And anyway, your memory isn't so hot, because that was the old maid he was eating the oysters with, not his mother." He chewed on a tomato, then said, "What was the name of that movie again?"
"Tom Jones," she told him. "But didn't you think it was sexy?"
"I would've felt a lot sexier if I hadn't had to go get those damn potato chips at the snack bar."
"Look," she said, taking the tomato out of his hand as she slid down on the floor beside him.
"Hey! Whatcha doing?" he protested, leaning a little away from her.
"I want to show you something," she said, fishing a cherry tomato out of the green plastic basket. As she pulled off the tiny leaves and the stem she said, "Didn't you ever think that food could be sexy?"
Rich looked at her suspiciously, the can of Vienna sausages in his hand. "You wanna screw again?" he asked her. "Wait 'til I get something in my stomach and then…"
"No, no," she said, grinning. "But look." She pushed the cherry tomato against his lips, but held it back as he looked suspiciously down at it. "When you get it in your mouth, don't bite it. Push it against the roof of your mouth with your tongue and break it open that way."
"What's that supposed to do?"
"It's sexy," she said. "Try it." She pushed the tomato into his mouth and watched him hold it there for a minute.
"Who ever heard of a sexy tomato?" he asked, talking around the tomato.
"Go ahead and try it," she urged him. Then she watched his face as he broke the tomato against his palate. "Well?" she asked when he had swallowed the tomato.
"A tomato," he told her. "Nothing sexy about that."
Valerie sighed. "Look," she said, taking another tomato out of the basket. "This time I'll do it, then you kiss me and break the tomato with your tongue."
Rich laughed. "Okay," he said. "But then I want to eat in peace. If you want to feel sexy after that, then we'll fuck some more."
Valerie put the tomato in her mouth and leaned forward a little to kiss him. His lips tasted of Vienna sausages, but his tongue was hot as it slipped past her lips and pressed against the ball of the tomato. She helped him break the tomato by holding it in place with her own tongue, and she shivered a little as the tart juice exploded over their dueling tongues.
"How was that?" she asked when they had parted lips.
"A lime sexy," he admitted. "But it was because we were kissing."
"Do it again," she told him. "Only don't think about the kiss. Concentrate on the texture of the tomato, how firm and smooth it is at first, and then the pressure it takes to break it and the sort of salty-sour taste of it and the feel of the insides against your tongue."
They did it again and when the tomato was broken, Valerie pushed it into his mouth with her tongue and rubbed the tomato flesh against his palate and over his tongue.
When he had swallowed the pulp he smiled at her and she said, "How was it that time? Didn't it feel even a little bit sexy?"
Rich grinned. "Without the seeds," he conceded, "a warm tomato tastes sort of like a cunt."
Valerie giggled a little. "That's more or less the idea," she said, "though I think you could've phrased it more delicately. I suppose if they could grow hairy tomatoes without the seeds, you'd never have to bother a woman again."
Rich eased his hand through the folds of her housecoat and said, fingering her silky pelt, "It doesn't replace the real thing, Sis."
Valerie pushed his hand away from her cunt. "Eat your sausages," she said. "And wipe your mouth off. You've got grease or something on your lip."
"Now if you want to try something sexy with food…" Rich said, grinning. He waited until Valerie reached for her wine glass, then he flipped the hem of her bathrobe up and deftly stuffed his Vienna sausage into her cunt.
Valerie nearly spat her wine all over him. "Oooo!" she gasped. "That's cold."
"It'll warm up in a minute," he said, pulling her hand away when she tried to pull the sausage out. "After you marinate it a little."
Valerie giggled. "It looks like I've got a little cock down there," she said, pulling her bathrobe up to get a better look at it.
"Or a Godawful big clit," he said, sliding the sausage in and out of her cunt.
"You're right," she giggled, feeling the cold meat lubricate the tip of her clitoris with its jellied grease. "It would make a damn poor cock!"
They both laughed as she tightened her cunt around the sausage, squeezing it out like toothpaste from a tube.
"Go ahead," she giggled. "Eat my little cock."
"I ain't no fag," he said seriously.
Valerie frowned, then pulled her bathrobe up a little more and said, "Okay then. Eat my big clit." And she smiled as Rich lowered his head between her legs and sucked one end of the sausage into his mouth. "Oooo! That's no fair!" she cried as he pushed the sausage back and forth in her labia, his nose tickling her pubic mound as it grazed through her hair.
When he sucked the sausage out of her cunt and began to chew it up he grinned at her and said, his mouth full, "Pretty good sauce."
Valerie giggled, but in the back of her mind she couldn't understand how she could be indulging in this game with the same man who had so brutally abused her earlier in the afternoon.
"Try another one," she urged him, not wanting to think about her conflicting emotions. "Only don't lose it in there!"
Rich dipped out another sausage from the can, saying, "If I lost it in there you could walk around all the time feeling like you were getting fucked."
Playfully, she pushed him in the face. "Be serious," she said.
Rich made a face like a deadpan comic. "Be serious, she tells me," he said to the tin can, "as she asks me to poke a sausage up her snatch!"
Valerie took off the bathrobe and tossed it to the other side of the coffee table as Rich sucked the grease from the sausage. Then she snuggled down on the floor until only the back of her head was resting on the couch.
"Did you know I have a flat back of the head?" she asked him. "My mother and father were poor. The Irish are always poor. And they didn't have a baby basket or anything, so they kept me in a dresser drawer, and I got a flat back of the head."
"The Kennedys are Irish," he said, fitting the sausage into her cunt again.
Valerie gasped shallowly as the cold meat slid into the moist clutch of her cunt, and her thighs twitched as her brother-in-law twisted the sausage against her clitoris. "There's more than one way to be poor," she said.
Then she parted her thighs and let him roll between them to eat the sausage out of her cunt. She could look down and see one end of it in his mouth, the other end gripped softly by her cunt. He didn't pull it out, but twisted it back and forth with his lips, the end of it rocking slickly against her clitoris. She could feel her cunt and his mouth warming the meat that connected them. Her upper thighs quivered and she giggled at the same time, very softly, as the warmed sausage was twirled within her. She could feel the ticklish oozing of her juices around it and she was again reminded of how very little it took to arouse her sexually.
Then Rich poked the sausage deeply into her cunt with his tongue so that only the very end of it protruded from her inner labia. She felt her outer lips close over it and for a second she was afraid that he had lost the sausage inside of her. But then he pressed his lips against her outer labia and drew hot circles around the end of the sausage with his tongue. The sausage swooshed hotly over her erect clitoris as Rich sucked it quickly out of her cunt like a child eating spaghetti. She wondered if she could have an orgasm this way, but when he pushed another sausage into her cunt she saw the same animal look in his eyes that she had seen when he had brought the dog in to fuck Jeanne. And she knew that, however boyish he looked, her brother-in-law would never be able to make love to her innocently, the way Jim had done in the beginning. And, although she giggled and quivered with strange delight as he eased the sausage into her cunt, she hated him a little, too.
"You kinda like me now, huh?" Rich asked her, running his strong brown hands over her thrusting white breasts.
She looked down and saw the doughy folds of his foreskin peeling slowly back as his big cock began to stiffen, and she thought, Like most men, Rich, your heart, or what substitutes for a heart, is in your cock. Then she told him, looking straight into his eyes, "I like what we're doing now because it's fun, and it feels good to me, and it was, remember, my idea. But don't think I'm falling in love with you – or even that I'll want to see you again after today. I'm not, and I don't. If you ever show up at this house again I'll call the police without a moment's hesitation. Don't make the mistake of thinking I'll be afraid of a scandal, either. You've played on that fear in me – and on too many other women, too, probably – long enough." She looked at him and didn't know whether he had even listened to what she had said, let alone whether he believed her. But she had said it, and she didn't think she could've said it more truly. And she smiled because she was pleased with what she had told him and because, for the moment, she felt good about what they were doing, even though she remembered, in the back of her head, that she had not liked other things she had done with him that afternoon. "Now here," she said, pulling him down by the shoulder. "Suck this sausage out of my vagina. It's been in the refrigerator and it's making my cunt cold."
Rich's lips were hot around the cylinder of greasy meat as he bit off little pieces of it and swallowed them, pulling the sausage out of her cunt a little at a time, his saliva running hotly over her labia as he licked the hairs of her cunt to cleanse them of the jellied grease from the meat. When he had eaten all of the sausage, his tongue burrowed deeply into her and she squirmed erotically as she felt the slightly abrasive caress of his tongue mash against the drooling knot of her clitoris.
"I like it," she said softly, running her fingers through his hair and pushing his face down a little harder on her swelling labia. She moaned then as he sucked her clitoris into his mouth and twiddled the end of it with his tongue. A slow, thick heat seemed to ooze up toward his mouth from the inner recesses of her pussy, and she was a little disappointed when he raised up from her cunt, licking his lips and smiling boyishly.
Rich reached over and took another cherry tomato from the basket. "Try this," he said, pushing it into his mouth. Then he leaned forward and sucked her right nipple into his mouth, pressing it with his tongue against the underside of the tomato.
"Ahhhh!" Valerie gasped as her nipple erected then burst through the ripe flesh of the tomato, tingling in the sudden flood of cool juice and seeds that Rich quickly sucked away and swallowed.
She let him suck on her nipple for several seconds; then she reached over on the table and picked up the glass of wine.
Rich gasped as the purple wine poured down over his hard, hot cock, and he looked up at her in surprise.
Valerie smiled at the wine running bright as blood over her brother-in-law's erection. Then, with a little twisting motion, she turned in his arms and began to lap the bittersweet trickles from his abdomen. Her hot tongue swirled into the depression of his navel, and her lips made a sucking gurgle as she drank up the wine collected there. Then she ran her tongue down the upper point of his wine-stained pubic hair and lapped the fluid from around the root of his cock. He had closed his legs when he had felt the cold splash of the wine, and there were full pockets of purple fluid caught in the spaces between his testicles and his muscular thighs. Valerie used her tongue like a siphon to suck up the flesh-warmed wine.
"Wow!" Rich breathed, his fingers dipping into her labia. "You're turning me on!"
Valerie glanced at him, then reached for the wine glass. She took a sip, but didn't swallow it. Instead, she pressed her pursed lips against the head of his cock and leaned against it until she had taken his glans into her mouth. A little of the wine dripped down the shaft of his cock from the corners of her lips, and she could see it glistening in the gold tangle of the hair on his nuts.
"Oiee!" Rich gasped, his fingers probing deeper into her pussy. "That's hot and cold at the same time!"
Valerie whirled the warming wine around and around the head of his cock, her cheeks ballooning out a little as she tried to blow some of the wine down the tube of his urethra.
She felt his hand leave her cunt, and from the corner of her eye she saw him pull the wine bottle toward him. Then she felt the cold mouth of the bottle pushed against her cunt. She swallowed the wine in her mouth as Rich pushed the top of the bottle gently into her pussy and tipped it up.
"Annhhhh!" she gasped, jerking up from his cock as she felt the cold wine slosh into her cunt. The temperature of the fluid was cool, but the sensations it aroused were fiery against her tender tissues. She panted shallowly as she watched him pull the bottle away, closing the lips of her cunt with his other hand to seal the wine inside.
"Hotter than cum, huh?" he asked, grinning, his brown hand pulling at her hip to position her cunt over his face.
Valerie rolled over him into a sixty-nine position, and as she felt his mouth press against her sealed-off cunt and as she felt his fingers release her labia, she slurped the head of his cock back into her mouth.
But the pleasant burning she felt as the wine trickled out of her cunt into her brother-in-law's sucking lips was so intense that she could only hold his glans in her mouth, pressing her tongue against it and panting through her nose. The warm sting of the wine bathed her clitoris as it trickled down past the tingling knot of nerves and she felt a small, intense prickle of orgasmic delight as Rich blew the wine back into her cunt.
By the time Rich had repeated the action three times – sucking the wine from her drenched pussy only to blow it back in over her tingling clitoris – he had swallowed most of the slightly thickened fluid.
Valerie began to suck voraciously on his glans, hoping he would duplicate the action on her clitoris. She could feel herself at the verge of an orgasm and she twisted her soft, hot tongue over his glans wildly to get him to echo the action on her cunt.
Instead, Rich languidly slid the hot shaft back and forth over her labia, licking up the residue of the wine with an agonizing slowness. Every now and then the tip of his tongue lingered teasingly on the vibrating tip of her tiny sexual center, and when this happened Valerie sucked harder on his cock, her hand wound around the shaft below her lips squeezing cruelly in time with her suction. Again and again she felt herself teetering on the edge of a climax. But each time Rich's tongue retreated she gasped in frustration, her lips rippling around his cock.
Then, when she least expected it, Rich made a lingering swipe at her clitoris. The tiny knot of nerves seemed to spring to attention and as Rich pulled back to nibble at the succulent red flesh of her labial wave after undulating warm wave of delight washed over her.
It was not a violent orgasm, but in many ways it was the most pleasant of the many she had experienced that day, for, in this case, it had not been forced upon her.
Valerie made a curious little mew of pleasure and satisfaction as she rolled away from him. She cupped both her breasts in her palms and rocked slowly back and forth on the carpet, with only one of her hips touching his knee.
Rich stood up, his legs straddling her waist, and looked down at her smiling face past the pole of his out thrust cock. "Wow," he said softly. "Make it, Sis. Make it!"
And when he stepped over her and moved away Valerie continued to softly massage her velvet-smooth breasts as the soft, warm waves of her orgasm broke gently throughout her faintly churning inner chambers.
When the last wash of feeling had retreated within her she looked up at her brother-in-law and smiled. He had found a pressurized can of whipped cream in the refrigerator and smiled boyishly as he bent to set it on the coffee table. He sat down cross-legged in front of her and reached for the wine bottle. Then, when he had taken a mouthful of the semisweet wine, he leaned forward, pressing his lips against hers.
Valerie curled her tongue and slid it through her brother-in-law's lips, moaning softly as the wine from his lips trickled warmly into her mouth.